Invictus
by cruorem
Summary: Alternate ending. Criticism emphatically encouraged. If you read, please review. No slash whatsoever.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Invictus

Chapter 1:

_I am master of my fate; I am captain of my soul._ –Invictus

Note: I am not really happy with this, but I wanted to see if anyone would read it. If you read, please review and help me improve (specifically with OOC-ness ). And if you happen to be male kindly inform me if the characters are girly in manner/thinking etc. Thanks.

Sam was attacked before he knew his foe was there. His body slammed against the compact soil, and his head jerked upward with the force of the impact. Vision jarred, he could merely feel the attacker atop his abdomen. His opponent's bony knee dug into his stomach. Sam yelped in pain. Then he unmistakably sensed the crushing grip of emaciated fingers close around his neck. His enemy moved so rapidly there was no time for his stunned brain to think properly.

So he fell back on animal instinct. The hobbit dumbly clawed at the monster's hands and writhed beneath it. His attempts were all in vain, for the creature only pushed down on Sam's throat harder.

_It's going to break….._

His mind was dissolving into blind panic. _No, no, no….._

Abruptly he recalled some of his limited fighting experience with Boromir. Before the man died he'd taken time to impart a few grapple techniques. He had been in the same position once in their lessons.

"Okay, clasp my arm to your chest and pin my foot with yours, no, like this,"

he'd said as he pulled the hobbit's small ankle over his own.

"Now bridge and turn."

Sam obeyed and found himself in the human's guard. Sam pulled Gollum's forearm against his middle. Caught off guard Smeagol unconsciously allowed himself to be flipped over. Samwise scrambled as far back from the hobbit as possible in his weakened state, and miraculously he discovered the Elvin dagger he had dropped when Gollum jumped him. Desperately he gathered his trembling digits around the polished hilt.

A shrill scream erupted from the mouth of the infuriated monster behind him. Sam whirled about, shutting his eyes and extending his weapon in a futile effort to keep the creature at bay. He nervously anticipated his agonizing demise any second then. But it simply didn't happen. Finally becoming cognizant of the relative quietness, Sam ventured a peek at the scene around him; and was utterly dumbstruck with horror at the sight before him. By some impossible stoke of fortune Smeagol was impaled thru the trachea by Samwise's own blade. Apparently in his stupid rage the being had thrown himself literally on the dagger. Although how he'd managed it was beyond the blonde Halfling.

Gollum screeched in mad fury, but merely blood arose from his throat. It sputtered and haltingly flowed. Sam yanked away in his disgust, and he happened to decapitate the thing. The freak's head hung from the spine by a solitary flap of skin. Sam covered his face with his hands, unable to view his handiwork. He felt so numb and yet so ill. He turned away from the corpse and vomited what was left in his wanting stomach.

Tears mixed with the acid. Yes he had feared and hated that thing ever since he'd first laid eyes on him, yes he had killed before, yes it was just to slay in self defense, especially after giving so many chances for reform, but then it really didn't matter to Sam. It wasn't a pseudo-distanced taking of life situation as it had been with the orcs, it somehow distinguished itself as _murder. _He had sliced a reasoning being's neck open. And all this was _his _fault. Sam abandoned his self to his illogical emotions and wept brokenly.

After he had cried all the tears he could over the loss of his innocence he fell back against a boulder, exhausted. Thoughts of the Shire, his friends and his family meandered through his tired mind.

_I needed to, I needed to for them. Their lives are infinitely more valuable than that heinous monstrosity._

Sam cringed at his callous assumption.

_No matter what I say, it won't be true. Everyone is equal. _

The hobbit began to drift into a sleep that quite possibly he would not wake up from.

_Frodo…._

Sam bolted awake. He'd forgotten entirely about his comrade.

_Up in Mount Doom all alone….._

The Halfling's intense loyalty to his master enabled him to force his body up the rock-side. Ignoring his fatigue he doggedly scaled the slick promontory above him; clinging stubbornly to the sorry hand holds his fingers found. But however strong his will, his body was still feeble from the previous exertion, and it caused his progress to be pitifully slow.

_No matter, I'm still coming for you master._

Sam was already too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Here is chapter 2 in all its imperfection. Please comment on this as well if you read it.

Time trudged along excruciatingly slowly as Sam forced a body that was already half dead to scale endless precipices. Nevertheless the hobbit found his self at the entrance of the dreaded volcanic chamber in which the one ring had been forged those endless ages ago. He stumbled as a sudden gust blew dark ash and embers into his face, momentarily blinding him. He held his weak arms in front of his eyes and proceeded onto the elongated outcrop that overlooked the molten lake flowing in the hollow of the mountain below him.

On the very edge there stood a small but erect figure.

"Frodo!"

Sam attempted to call his master's name but his hoarse voice was lost in the echoes of bursts of fire erupting at each side of him. Yet his master heard him.

Frodo turned his head to greet his friend. Sam's welcoming smile quickly disappeared. Mad eyes met his gaze. There was nothing he recognized within them.

Sam's breath caught in his parched throat as he spied the ring still dangling on the long silver chain clutched possessively in his comrade's dirty fist.

"I can't give it up Sam."

Frodo's words were whispered, but they were clearly received.

Frodo lifted the band to his finger. Sam's heart appeared to cease palpitation, as he was frozen in utter disbelief.

Frodo abruptly halted. He blinked, looking confused for a moment. He glanced back to Samwise.

"I… I'm sorry Sam."

What transpired afterward was shockingly surreal. Frodo's hairy feet were over the brink. Then his legs disappeared, and then his head…

Sam jolted back to life. He dashed to the rim in time to witness the body of lava swallow the Halfling and his ring.

_65% of his flesh was boiling, evaporating, melting, and the rest burned. But his soul was untouched, virgin. And that was all that mattered to him. _

Samwise Gamgee fell back on the stone ledge. The cavern around him blurred, and faded as the black engulfed him.

The ground beneath him was gently rising and falling. Sam opened his eyes. The world was covered in brown feathers. A familiar grey-haired head appeared.

"Gandalf…"

"Sam, you're safe now."

"No… master..."

He fell back into unconsciousness, his sentence unfinished.

"I know Sam."

Out of the night that covers me,  
>Black as the Pit from pole to pole,<br>I thank whatever gods may be  
>For my unconquerable soul.<p>

In the fell clutch of circumstance  
>I have not winced nor cried aloud.<br>Under the bludgeonings of chance  
>My head is bloody, but unbowed.<p>

Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
>Looms but the Horror of the shade,<br>And yet the menace of the years  
>Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.<p>

It matters not how strait the gate,  
>How charged with punishments the scroll.<br>I am the master of my fate:  
>I am the captain of my soul.<p>

^ Invictus copied from Poemhunter . com


End file.
